


Sitrep

by JaneDavitt



Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:44:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneDavitt/pseuds/JaneDavitt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sparked by a line of dialog in 11.04. Tony's been on the end of a Gibbs' stare often, but the last time was different.<br/>Dialog at the start in italics is from the episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sitrep

_"What's going on? Sitrep, McGee."_

_"You've been on the other side of that look, Tony. Take a guess."_

And he has. Often. And he remembers the last time. Not at his desk, Gibbs looming over him, or in the field, those ice-blue eyes boring holes in him.

No, he got that look, patient, settled in for a long wait, certain of victory, three nights earlier when Gibbs asked to be fucked. Asked and stared as Tony floundered, babbled, a hooked fish jackknifing in the empty air. Because Gibbs has never—why would he ever—

"You need it." 

"I do?" Does he? Maybe he does. It's been a confusing few months. Ziva. Bullets breaking his apartment windows. Ziva. Tony has a list of adjectives for the man—a long list—but confusing isn't one of them. Gibbs isn't hard to understand once you've unlocked a door or two. Or kicked them down. They've fucked now and then and that hasn't been complicated. Just…necessary in some indefinable way. Gibbs doesn't talk when there's nothing to say and before, during, and after, Tony can't remember more than a muttered word or two. Strip. That's good, Tony. Yeah. G'night.

Gibbs had nodded, gaze softening, then added, "I need it, Tony."

Gibbs had won that battle with those words and Tony had…yeah. Enjoyed it. Kind of. Wished he could've had longer to psych himself up, though his cock hadn't needed more than the warm, rough clasp of Gibbs' hand to get in the game. His cock was a slut. He knew it, Gibbs knew it. Tony was harder to get.

And it's so fucking wrong to stand here in MTAC watching those shadowy figures shift and shuffle, moving closer to Gibbs and be desperately worried, mouth dry, throat tight, and half-hard at the same time. But the worry's superficial; those men, every single fucking one of them, are going to be lucky if they live to regret facing down Leroy J. 

Tony knows it. And a moment later, Gibbs proves him right.

Situation normal. 

So who gets fucked when Gibbs comes home?

Tony's not sure. But for scaring him this way—and he was—he sure as hell wishes Gibbs would hold still long enough for a— 

Nah. Never gonna happen.


End file.
